


Orchid

by StrayLiger



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: Character Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 00:39:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16776154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrayLiger/pseuds/StrayLiger
Summary: Ribbons Almark loves himself.





	Orchid

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and I have been picking at it for a while-surprising nobody, I am super horny for Ribbons Almark and antagonists in general and somehow I managed to make this horny without even having to mention sex because that's my life I guess?
> 
> This is kind of a three part little thing about Ribbons, as seen through the eyes of two other assholes and then as he sees himself.
> 
> Anyway, as usual, please enjoy and any feedback is appreciated, welcomed and greatly encouraged!

Alejandro Corner has known his share of gorgeous men, in a very biblical sense.

Being quite handsome himself, it’s easy for him to attract others; he just has to smile once, a flash of white teeth and a sideways glance, for people to immediately be charmed, hurtling towards him like moths to the flame. 

But Ribbons is different. Everything about him is.

He can’t help but think about it when he kisses the pale column of his neck, earning himself an approving but soft hum. Ribbons’ skin is smooth, and soft, and cold as alabaster, purer than porcelain, so white that it’s almost transparent, to the point where he can follow the lavender paths of the veins that pulse underneath. And his hands are long and graceful, with curiously light bones-when he threads their fingers together, Alejandro feels like he’s holding a bird in his hand.

Ribbons is perfect: beautiful (so beautiful; Alejandro is vain, and he hates to admit it, but he cannot stand things that aren’t beautiful, and Ribbons is the most beautiful person he’s ever met) loyal, soft spoken, charismatic-but not so much that he overshadows Alejandro. He wouldn’t have been able to stand it, otherwise. To men like Alejandro Corner, the worst kind of offense is to know someone that shines brighter, that attracts more gazes. Ribbons is enchanting, and polite, and intelligent-but he is also quiet and submissive, and follows every order without questioning, without committing a single mistake, but without expecting any credit for it. When Alejandro compliments him, Ribbons only smiles softly, and thanks him with that low, warm voice of his, lowering his eyes. 

Ribbons has seen Alejandro lose his temper a couple of times. It’s something he can’t help-he’s always been a hot headed man. Years of training taught him to control it, but sometimes he can’t help it, and his blood boils, and he smashes a glass against the wall. Ribbons doesn’t seem to fear him (Alejandro wouldn’t have wanted him, if he was so easily scared; it’s another reason why he deeply dislikes women, who flee at the first inconvenience). He cleans the mess up in silence, and waits for Alejandro to cool down patiently, standing in a corner, until he’s beckoned forward by a lazy gesture of his hand. He doesn’t even have to ask him to bring him a drink: Ribbons  _ knows _ when he needs one. 

Ribbons would feed him by hand if he asked. The man is so servile that any other person would find it distasteful, but for Alejandro it’s so wonderful that it actually causes him to shiver with pleasure when he thinks about it. He has never heard Ribbons say  _ no _ to any of his orders, or requests, even the cruel or humiliating ones that Alejandro likes to throw in from time to time, just for the pleasure of knowing that he won’t refuse.

He thinks about it as he watches him pour him a glass of brandy. Once he is at his reach, Alejandro pulls Ribbons into his lap: the younger man doesn’t resist, and allows him to wrap his arm around his slim waist, and when Alejandro nuzzles his neck, he tilts his head back, docile as a lamb. He’s never met anyone that’s so...  _ his _ . Ribbons is so light that Alejandro feels like his bones are hollow. It’s like holding on to a particularly delicate plant, an orchid.

He keeps orchids in his greenhouse-just because he can, because they’re rare and expensive. Sometimes, Alejandro takes pleasure in snapping the long, fragile stems between his fingers, finding the earthy scent that clings to them afterwards delightful. He likes watching the pale white and purple flowers droop under their own, minimal weight, after being broken with minimal force. He likes them because they’re another thing that can’t say  _ no _ .

Yes, Alejandro has known his share of beautiful men, and been cruel to many of them.

But none of them can hold a candle to Ribbons, who seems to thrive on his cruelty, like a tropical flower flourishes in the humid heat of a poisonous jungle.

  
  


Ali Al-Saachez knows very well that judging a book by its cover is the worst mistake a person can make.

Ribbons Almark is probably one of the most beautiful people he has seen in his life: lithe,  _ delicate _ , with pale skin and strange mint colored hair and purple eyes. His voice is like velvet, the voice of a person who has never had to yell, who probably hasn’t even cussed in their life, and his manners are exquisite; Ribbons Almark’s appearance is both pleasant and otherworldly, like he’s a flower posing as a human.

But Ali’s seen insects that look like leaves, or flowers for camouflage: foul little things, with forelegs that look like scimitars and wicked serrated mandibles made for cutting smaller creatures into pieces-they are colored in soft pink and white, and the shape of their bodies imitates the graceful silhouette of tropical orchids. Beautiful on the outside, fragile in appearance, but when you look at them closer you realize the malice in their bulging eyes. The lack of guilt or mercy in the way the females devour their males, starting by the head.

Whatever created Ribbons Almark must have done it with those insects in mind.

And Ali immediately distrusts him: this is a person that is willing to do anything to fool others into thinking that he is harmless, and nobody pretends to be harmless unless they’re capable of doing great harm. Just like himself.

When they shake hands he notices that Ribbons’ hands are soft, almost  _ too _ much, but strong-maybe stronger than his, because it’s obvious that he is holding back. Ribbons Almark’s hand is cold as marble, and Ali realizes that the contact is unsettling, almost  _ revolting _ . His skin breaks into goosebumps and he actually has to resist the urge to rub his palm against his pants, as if he had just touched something foul.

That has to mean  _ something _ : Ali makes a living in doing things that are revolting to most people.  _ Revolting _ is his middle name. He has done things that would make the worst criminals shiver in disgust, and  _ enjoyed _ them. Something has to be very wrong with Ribbons Almark, for his instincts to set off an alarm like this.

Ribbons Almark smiles at him, and Ali Al-Saachez smirks in return.

Ali is a simple man, and enjoys his job because it’s simple: one of the advantages of his line of work is that people never get tired of killing each other. Someone always needs a bigger asshole to finish what they started. So he has the privilege of being able to pick his clients by deciding, simply, if he likes them or not. Trust isn’t a part in the equation, because nobody really  _ trusts _ a killer, and because Ali always charges in advance.

He knows Ribbons doesn’t like him, but trusts him to get the job done; Ali doesn’t trust Ribbons Almark, but he likes him.

And that’s more than enough.

Ribbons Almark  _ loves _ himself.

How can he not? He stands in front of the mirror, fascinated by his own image. His facial features are harmonious, more than any human’s; his mint green hair is finer than anyone else’s, the rest of his body, pale as snow, is wonderfully lithe and supple, strong, but delicate looking, enticing,  _ beautiful _ .

Ribbons deeply dislikes being touched; nobody should have the right to touch something so perfect, he thinks. The only exception was that fool, Alejandro-not precisely because Ribbons was interested in him (he gave as many fucks about Alejandro as he does about a dog barking in a tv with the sound turned on), but because it was such a boost for his ego to watch him lose his mind for the privilege of touching him, of whispering in his ear how perfect he was. Alejandro was an idiot, and a disgusting one-but Ribbons enjoyed the way he stared at him like a man who sees the sun for the first time. 

He spends a while watching himself in the mirror, not bothering to dress himself just yet. His own body is a marvel to behold, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, he thinks. Soft curves, sharp angles. Ribbons finds a small bruise, a blue-purple shadow on his left hip, and touches it with the tip of his fingers, frowning at first, and then smiling. The downside to his pale skin is that he bruises easily-Alejandro used to like that, to leave bruises on his wrists, and his neck, and Ribbons concludes that he likes it, too. There’s something somber and decadent about bruises that he enjoys-they look like drops of ink, or blood, slowly diluting in a glass of water. Even that part of himself is  _ perfect _ .

The foolish heir of the Corner fortune used to say that Ribbons was like a rare orchid. Ribbons hated the comparison. Orchids, flowers in general, annoy him, by their fragility. Ribbons might look delicate, and maybe the orchids are he closest thing there is to his rare, otherworldly beauty, but if there is something Ribbons isn’t is defenseless, or fragile.

He was a Gundam Meister. Still is. A combat type Innovator, made for violence, for strength and endurance, for the sake of tearing others apart. Invincible and ruthless. He is strong.

No, not strong: he is  _ powerful _ . Ribbons holds in his hand the knowledge of the whole world. His eyes and ears are everywhere. He can twist and pull strings without effort to change the course of history.

Not even other Innovators can hold a candle to him. Not Hilling Care, that he keeps around mostly for the pleasure of seeing his own face, not that insufferable bastard Regene, who legitimately thinks that he is his equal. His equal. The  _ gall _ . 

The thought of Regene makes his upper lip twist in a sneer, revealing perfect white teeth, with curiously sharp little canines. 

There is no one,  _ nothing _ like Ribbons Almark.

He is the closest thing to God that the world will ever have.

  
  



End file.
